


Fixated

by Kitty_KatAllie



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha Katsuki Yuuri, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Heat/rut, M/M, Omega Victor Nikiforov, Yuuri's Anxiety and Insecurity, canon compliant AU, eventually, ofc what's a yoi fic without those?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:40:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25108618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitty_KatAllie/pseuds/Kitty_KatAllie
Summary: It's supposed to be easy to be an athlete if you're already an Alpha, and an Alpha male at that. It's a tale as old as time, too, for an Alpha to Fixate on an Omega. And Alpha/Omega pairs are the standard of every fairy tale romance- hell, if a beautiful, naked Omega of your dreams shows up naked at your family's onsen, well, that should just make it so much simpler.Somehow, this dime-a-dozen Japanese figure skater always manages to make his life so much harder than it should be. From Presenting too young, to anxiety meds that mess up his suppressants, to even sabotaging his own fairy tale ending with Viktor Living Legend Nikiforov, Katsuki Yuuri, the worst Alpha to ever Alpha, has done it all. But maybe there's finally something more to his life than just his constant mess ups.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri & Nishigori Yuuko, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Phichit Chulanont & Katsuki Yuuri
Comments: 33
Kudos: 70





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to get this long-ass note out of the way here! Firstly, I already have plans for several chapters, but I'm not planning on doing a whole re-write of the ENTIRE series. (I know, it's only 12 episodes, sssshhh.) I'll be hopefully posting mostly in chronological order, starting with Yuuri Presenting at (spoilers), and it'll go on post-series. (Yes, the first few chapters will be Yuuri and then Phichit-heavy. Fite me, bro. Phichit is Sunshine.) If y'all like it or want more before it's done, please, drop a comment asking for a scene or episode you wanna see re-created in the 'verse! Otherwise, it'll just be (long af) drabbles posted higgly-piggly until my ideas are done. The last chapters will be explicit AF because I love making people wait for the good shit. I know why people are here. Don't worry, the smut will come. ... heh.
> 
> I've taken ideas from a few different fandoms (Destiel, STEREK (which does omegaverse BEST), and even some ideas from YOI) and mashed them all together into my own world. I've always preferred Alpha/TopYuuri (or, yanno, some solid Switching fun), but I got a lot of inspiration from some doujin made by K2Company/kazu (screaming @ that hella Alpha/DILF energy, have you SEEN Yuuri in a ball cap? that's my KINK y'all) and even threerings here on AO3 (check out her YOI fics! SO GOOD!). 
> 
> There are some heavy ideas in this first chapter, and some might be triggery, so please, for y'all's sake, give it a look. None are EXPLICIT, though, just implied!

He knew Yuu-chan was talking, that she was giddy and excited, and just moments ago the cute look on her face would have had him stunned and blushing. Yuu-chan was the cutest girl in Hasetsu and he had been basking in her attention since they were little kids. Recently he’d realized that his feelings weren’t quite the younger brother kind of feelings that he had with Mari-neechan. Maybe it had something to do the sweeter, softer scent that started trailing in her wake a few months ago; something like strawberries and flowers, but not. Or maybe he was just twelve and it was time for his first crush. Who knew.

But none of that mattered now. She’d been a fan of this older ice skater for years, but in the past few weeks, she’d been _so_ excited that Yuuri had finally started to really pay attention. When Yuuri had blushingly agreed to watch the Junior World’s recording with her at Ice Castle, Yuu-chan had been so eager to share her favorite athlete that she’d had the VHS already up and paused at the winning performance for him by the time he’d come after school.

She all but shoved him on the bench, hitting play before his shoes were off. The music began to play, a standard Tchaikovsky selection for a Russian— for most ice skaters, really— but then he’d looked at the screen instead of Yuu-chan’s lit-up eyes.

And all thoughts of a ‘crush’ and strawberry scents were out the window. Defeated in one crushing blow from the lithe teen wrapped in black and crystal on the screen. Yuuri’s eyes widened, his mouth fell open, and his brain filled with a strange kind of white noise. The longer he watched, the more the boy with the silver hair _moved_ and _smiled_ , flying over the ice like the fairy of the song he danced to, the more Yuuri knew no one else would ever compare. Omega, Alpha, Beta, whatever _Yuuri_ ended up presenting as later, it didn’t matter.

That was _him_. And he was meant for _Yuuri_.

“... Viktor is just so beautiful, isn’t he? He’s only sixteen and look at that spiral! I’ve never seen a male skater perform one so well. They say ‘cause he’s so young that’s how he can do it, but I think he’s more elegant than even that Russian girl on his team. I bet she’s _mad_ ,” Yuu-chan giggled, cheeks flushing.

“Yeah, well, he’s an _Omega_ , ain’t he? It’s not like he’d ever notice another Omega like you, Yuuko,” Nishigori sneered, his own ears as red as Yuu-chan’s face. Yuu-chan hadn’t actually Presented yet, but most people were thinking it, ever since that scent started. Yuu-chan huffed and stomped her foot, fists tightly clenched at her sides. Luckily, she wasn’t wearing her skates yet.

“Ugh! Takeshi-kun! You- You’re- Ugh! Yuu-kun, let’s go! Don’t you wanna try his routine with me? I’ve been memorizing it for _days_ ,” Yuu-chan pleaded, turning towards Yuuri with big, bright eyes and her hands clasped under her chin. Takeshi made an angry ‘tch’ sound and returned to his hockey magazine or whatever it was he was reading.

Yuuri’s mouth slowly closed and he swallowed thickly. Viktor was off the ice, but he was still on the screen. He was sitting next to an old, grumpy-looking man on a bench, waving and smiling an adorable heart-shaped smile. He flicked the long tail of his silver hair over his shoulder, but thin, shiny strands still clung to his sweaty neck and cheeks. He looked like an _angel_.

“I want to skate like him. _With him_ ,” Yuuri breathed out wistfully. “Is he that beautiful in person, too?”

“Of course he is! Probably even more! And he’s super nice to his fans, all across the world!” Yuu-chan said with another giggle and a clap of her hands. She fell to the bench, straddling it to face Yuuri directly, and leaned forward on her hands. Yuuri jerked in place and turned to face her, still too stunned and numb to flounder over her closeness. So close that he could smell that delicate, barely there scent… was it… strawberry? He used to care more about that. “I bet you could skate like him! Okukawa-sensei says you’re the very best dancer in her class, and you learn the tricks from those books faster than I do!” She grabbed his hands and held them up between their chests. “Let’s do it together, Yuu-kun! Let’s become famous figure skaters and meet Viktor on the ice!”

“Yeah.” Yuuri flushed bright red, eyes darting towards the TV screen, but some other older guy was skating now and he couldn’t care less. “Yeah, let’s do that. Show me his routine, Yuu-chan! Right now!” He grinned in excitement. 

They giggled together, leaning close enough that their bangs brushed.

“You guys are so dumb. I’m gonna barf,” Nishigori grumbled. He tottered his way towards the rink, already on his skates. Yuu-chan and Yuuri exchanged eyerolls before grinning almost identical grins.

“Wanna watch it one more time while we skate up?”

“Yeah!”

* * *

He was shaking all over. Shaking hard enough that anyone looking might think he was fighting off hypothermia, but he was hot hot _hot_. Sweat trailed down his temples, tickled the edges of his nose and the line of his soft pudgy jaw. With a loud gasp, Yuuri threw himself out from under his heavy comforter and gripped his chest with both hands. He was panting harshly, skin flushed with fever, but he couldn’t help but smile.

He’d had another dream of Viktor. Beautiful, wonderful Viktor. This time, he’d put that crown of blue roses on Yuuri’s hair and leaned down to smile at him. It was that softer smile the cameras had caught when his coach, Yakov, had given him a one-armed hug. Soft and sweet and _happy_. He’d given _that_ smile to Yuuri and promised to meet him on the ice. _Keep skating for me, Yuuri. You will, won’t you?_

Yuuri curled around his knees, shaking all over and trying not to laugh out loud. The dreams were coming more often, still hazy and quickly slipping through his fingers, but he hoped _this_ dream would stay with him. It had been such a good dream. Like all the work he and Yuu-chan had been putting in since March was reaching Viktor somehow and he was approving. Waiting for Yuuri to catch up.

“Stupid,” Yuuri muttered, grinning against his knees.

A soft yip interrupted him and suddenly a squirmy, fluffy, tiny body was trying to wedge its way between Yuuri’s face and his legs. Sputtering and laughing, Yuuri sat up, protesting halfheartedly as his puppy and newest family member licked all over his face.

“Wait, wait, Vicchan, stop that, down!” Yuuri laughed even as he struggled the rest of the way out of the covers. The strange fever subsided by the time Yuuri got out of bed and into the proper winter clothes, Vicchan bouncing and whining around his ankles. 

“There you are, Yuuri! You’re finally awake,” Okaasan greeted as cheerfully as ever. Yuuri preened under the gentle touch of her hand over his messy hair. She hesitated and her cool, soft hand smoothed down the side of his face. Then, the back of her hand pressed to his forehead. He frowned lightly. “Honey, do you have a fever?”

“Nah, I just woke up hot. I’ll take off one of the blankets tonight. It’s fine,” Yuuri assured her quickly.

Her eyebrows lowered slightly, but she smiled and patted his cheek. “Okay, but keep your hat down low and wear a scarf!”

“I’m just taking Vicchan out for a walk! I’ll be right back,” Yuuri said in amusement, rolling his eyes and darting around her. Vicchan leapt like a deer at his heels, yipping a little louder than before.

“I mean it! The hat _and_ scarf!” Okaasan warned, but her tone was just as amused.

Mari blinked blearily at him from the dining table. “You’re never this happy in the morning, baby-face. What demon is possessing you?”

Yuuri rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Mari-neechan.”

“Oh, there’s the pissy attitude. All’s right with the world again,” she waved negligently at him and slumped over the table, moaning. “Middle school sucks. It _especially_ sucks in the winter,” she said to no one in particular, though her eyes peered towards their soft-hearted father.

“Is that so, Mari?” Otousan said agreeably. Mari groaned louder.

Vicchan was successfully leashed and Yuuri was out the door, leaving his sister trying unsuccessfully to convince their father to let her stay home. He felt too hot in his hat _and_ scarf (it wasn’t even snowing!), but he kept up his quick pace and ignored it. He focused instead on the dream and blue roses. On the latest magazine article that Yuu-chan had brought to Ice Castle. The brand new posters on their way even now from Russia that his father had thankfully, though bemusedly, caved in and bought for him. His cute dog that looked just like Makkachin in the magazine, if smaller. The routine he and Yuu-chan had all but perfected in the past eight months.

_That’s just like Viktor, Yuu-kun! You’re amazing!_

He grinned, speeding up a little faster as Vicchan pranced down the way to their beach.

His birthday was coming and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been _this_ excited for it. Viktor already had his first Grand Prix event and had gotten a silver! The next event was right on his birthday, and his mother agreed to let him stay up all night to watch it. Plus, she and Minako-sensei had obviously gotten him tickets to see a _real_ ballet in Fukuoka. They thought they’d been sneaky, but when he’d begged to go, his mother had told him ‘no’ with a secretive little smile on her face. Okaasan was just as bad at secrets as he was.

Vicchan’s sandy, wet paws scrabbled at his shins. He dropped to his knees to cuddle him happily, then reached in his pocket for Vicchan’s favorite ball while unleashing him. The next fifteen or so minutes he spent wearing out his too-energetic puppy with a vigorous game of fetch. Normally, they stayed longer, but he had school to get to. The twosome hurried back home, Vicchan a little less bouncy with his tongue lolling from the corner of his mouth. As Yuuri wiped his paws clean, dodging puppy kisses, a warmth spread in his chest. His dream, his sport, his birthday, his _dog_. It was all thanks to Viktor.

 _My life has gotten so better now that Viktor’s in it_ , Yuuri thought, smiling. One day he’d meet Viktor on the ice and tell him that. Would Viktor smile _that_ smile if he did?

And that warmth got bigger until he felt like he was melting in his heavy coat and layers. There was a sharp yip, a sound Yuuri had only heard when he’d accidentally stepped on Vicchan’s tail that one time. Suddenly, his too-hot cheek was pressed to the blessedly cold stone of the front entrance walkway. It kinda hurt, too. His glasses were digging into his nose and temple?

But the ground was just so cool. Vicchan barked again and again and…

* * *

The doctor’s office was too sterile for any real smell. The examination room had smelt so overwhelming of sanitation products, he still had a headache from it, so the lack of scent here was a relief. A pit of nausea in his stomach grew at even the memory of that smell. The small, private doctor’s office was much better with the more settled smell of old furniture and leather-bound books. Not so bright, either. His feet dangled over the side of the chair, the soles of his indoor slippers swishing over the carpet, one hand clutching the front of his sweater over his fast-beating heart as his mother and the doctor spoke over his head.

It was already nine a.m. He should be in the middle of his math lesson.

“... it’s not unprecedented, not for an Alpha. He’s just a few years earlier than the usual time.”

“Well, yes, but… It happened so suddenly.”

“Other than the abrasions on his cheek and hands, he’s in perfect health, I assure you, Katsuki-san.”

 _Alpha._ Yuuri’s hands curled into fists, the fabric of his pants creaking between his fingers. He’s supposed to be an Omega. Like his mom. Like Yuu-chan was probably going to be. He’s small, and quiet, and shy. Okaasan calls him her ‘sweet boy’, her ‘soft boy’. Alphas aren’t sweet or soft, or _shy_. So shy that just talking to a room full of kids his own age has made him cry and stop breathing. So shy that his only friends are Yuu-chan, the nicest girl in Hasetsu, and Nishigori, who still likes to bully him and call him ‘fatso’. And now Vicchan. His fingers convulsed. He really wanted Vicchan’s warm curly fur and gentle licks right now.

“While it’s not unprecedented, usually an early Presentation does have a catalyst of some kind. Yuuri-kun, Katsuki-san, could I ask you both a few questions?”

Yuuri nodded with quivering lips. His mother agreed quickly, worriedly.

“Has anything new or very upsetting happened recently?”

“No, nothing other than him getting a puppy. A puppy isn’t upsetting, is it? Yuuri, can you think of anything, honey?”

Yuuri shook his head. The only new things were _good_ things. Viktor. Vicchan. Learning new skating routines. The tickets he wasn’t supposed to know about.

“What about a new person? Usually an older already Presented Omega could have this affect. That’s the most common cause.”

“Oh! Well, he’s known her for years, but… Yuu-chan, that is, his friend Yuuko, she’s been showing some signs of Presenting soon. She’ll be fifteen.”

“Omega?”

“That’s right.”

“Yuuri-kun, can you think of Yuuko-chan for a moment, please?” The doctor asked in a patient and kind voice, but Yuuri glared up at him anyway. Why should he think of Yuu-chan? It wasn’t _her_ fault that _he’s_ the freak. The doctor just smiled gently. “This morning, were you thinking about her?”

Yuuri shrugged. At his mother’s soft urging, “not really,” he managed to mumble.

“And now? Do you feel hot again? Here, in your chest?” the doctor asked, laying an open palm over his own chest, right where the hot feeling of that morning had come over Yuuri several times. Yuuri shook his head. He felt more numb than anything else. The doctor frowned slightly, smoothing away the expression in the next moment. “There’s really no other close to him? Perhaps even an Alpha could have done it. There is another line of inquiry to try, but… it’s not one I like to entertain. I know your family well, Katsuki-san.”

There was a sharp inhale and his mother’s hand on his shoulder shook. “He’s never alone in the onsen. He’s always with me or his father. He’s too shy to talk to the patrons much, he helps me in the kitchen if he’s not in his room.”

“I thought so. It doesn’t seem likely, but we can’t rule it out if you can’t think of another Omega closer to his age—”

“Oh! Well, um," Okaasan looked down at Yuuri and then tapped her cheek, "there's the one. He’s a bit older, but Yuuri's just started talking about that foreigner. Almost every day. A very sweet-looking boy. Yuuri rather idolizes him,” his mother said with an indulgent giggle. “Yuuri, didn’t you say Viktor was an Omega? You said it’s one of the reasons you liked him so much, wasn’t it?”

Yuuri gasped, feeling betrayed at his mother just _talking_ about Viktor like that. To the _doctor_. His wide-eyed gaze flicked between his mother and the doctor, then back to the ground. His cheeks burned red and he glared at his feet. “Yes.”

“Viktor? That’s an interesti—”

“He’s Russian. He’s a skater,” Yuuri interrupted hotly.

“Yuuri, don’t be rude.”

Yuuri bit his lip and closed his eyes. His headache was coming back along with the weird hot ache in his chest.

“Yuuri-kun,” the doctor started slowly. Yuuri flinched, both hands clutching at his shirt again. “Have you been dreaming about this boy?”

“It’s nothing bad! Nothing wrong! I promise!” Yuuri burst out, tears gathering at the corner of his eyes. “I promise, it’s not bad! He just smiles and says he can’t wait to skate with me. There’s nothing bad about that!”

His mother’s hand smoothed over his hair. “No, Yuuri, there’s nothing bad. It’s okay.”

“It’s called Fixation, Yuuri-kun. It happens often to Presenting Alphas and Omegas and it’s nothing bad at all,” the doctor agreed.

But that _word_ had Yuuri gasping even louder. His heart was so loud his ears were ringing.

Fixation. _Fixation_. On _Viktor._ He’d heard about it because it had _already happened_. In an interview he’d read about how Viktor had found Makkachin, he’d mentioned how terrible the past year had been because of a stalker. Some much older, scarier Alpha that had Fixated on him and refused to leave him alone for _months_. Finding Makkachin, taking care of her, had helped almost as much as the police actually putting that guy in jail. That’s what Viktor had said.

And now _Yuuri_ was the gross, freak Alpha with the _Fixation_. And he was only twelve! Some dumb little kid with a disgusting Fixation on Viktor. Just like that monster ‘fan’.

“... being physically separated is a good—”

“Should we stop the poste—”

“...especially once his takes suppressants…”

“Are suppressants safe…”

His mother and the doctor’s voices fuzzed in and out, and his vision was getting spotty. His heart hadn’t _slowed down_. It just kept getting faster. There was a strange whine, and then harsh panting, and Yuuri wanted to look around for Vicchan, but Vicchan was home, not here. The whine came again louder, higher, and something was tickling his nose, his cheeks, down the side of his face.

“Yuuri? Yuuri!”

“Please, lower your voice, Katsuki-san. Remove the patches.”

“What? Oh, of course!”

A moment later the safe, warm smell of his mother’s Omega scent overwhelmed him. He rarely smelled it this strongly. With her patches always on as most Japanese wore them, especially in a public-service job like their onsen, Yuuri had really only smelled it in his parents’ bedroom when he was much younger. When he would sneak in sleepy and grumpy in the early mornings and snuggle with his mother on her futon until she woke him gently, hands stroking his hair.

It reminded him of sweet barley tea. Earthy and sweet and _comforting_. Safe.

He gasped again, a big, deep breath that actually filled his lungs. The whining ended and he blinked rapidly to clear his blurry vision. After a while, his mother’s soft purring was louder than the thundering of his heart. He gritted his teeth and threw his arms around his mother’s waist. Sobs shivered through him, as quiet as they were wild, and he pressed his damp, hot face as close to his mother’s throat as he could. Where that safe, warm smell was strongest.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to, I just wanted to skate with him, I promise, I didn’t mean to!”

“I know, honey, I know. It’s fine. It’s all fine. You’re my good, sweet boy. I believe you.”

“Katsuki-san… does this sort of situation happen often?”

“Ah… nothing this bad, but yes. Usually during his test weeks, or before dance recitals.”

The rest of the meeting was mostly a blur. His mother’s arms stayed around him while the doctor handed over two prescriptions. One for suppressants with an explanation of what side-effects to watch out for. Twelve _was_ young for hormonal suppressants, but it was still a better option than expecting him to go through a Rut. Yuuri shuddered in horror. He could keep skating, keep his posters and magazines and his puppy, the Fixation would end naturally without the actual object of the Fixation nearby to encourage it.

“Since you’re still so young, Yuuri-kun, it really won’t be an issue for long. Fixation in teens come and go quickly. Soon enough you’ll meet other classmates your own age who will be a much better fit than an athlete across the world!”

The second prescription was to help with the nasty voices in his head and the strange, too-tight, trapped feelings he got when he was worried about something. _Anxiety_. Anti-anxiety medication. It made his mother a little uncomfortable, but she firmed her jaw and nodded. They talked more about side-effects and schedules, the word _therapist_ was used once or twice, but Yuuri just stared at his hands where they lay limp and clammy on his lap.

 _A better fit? Someone_ better _than Viktor Nikiforov? Maybe Viktor deserves a better fit, but me? Who could be_ better _for me? How could anyone else measure up?_

“Yuuri, it’s time to go home.”

Yuuri inhaled sharply, then followed after his mother mutely. He could barely bring himself to say good-bye or thank you, itching to leave through the whole time it took for the prescriptions to be filled. Seeing his home in front of him, hearing Vicchan’s excited barking as they walked up the entrance way, finally had his fragile outer-shell breaking. He rushed into the house and fell to his knees to scoop up Vicchan and cuddle his soft, curly fur. He barely managed to kick off his shoes, not at all in his usual tidy manner, before he ran, slipping and sliding over wooden floorboards, towards his bedroom. His father called out his name, but he heard his mother reply for him. Mari-neechan was still at school.

The door slammed behind him and he flung himself onto the bed, curling protectively around Vicchan who hadn’t stopped trying to lick his chin, his cheeks, claws scrabbling at his puffy blue coat.

“Vicchan, Vicchan,” Yuuri sobbed into his fur. Vicchan whined and cuddled close. His cold wet nose snuffled at Yuuri’s neck, making him giggle thickly through tears and snot. “I’m sorry I’m the one you ended up with, Vicchan. I’m probably gonna be a terrible puppy dad,” Yuuri whispered, stroking Vicchan’s long floppy ears. His tongue lolled in a doggy smile and Yuuri smiled back. “I promise I’ll love you as much as I possibly can, okay? You think that’ll be enough, Vicchan?”

The excited yipping and licking had Yuuri laughing again.

If only he could say the same kind of thing to the real Viktor, minus the puppy dad thing. He glanced up at the one picture of Viktor he had so far, the large, full-page poster taken from Yuu-chan’s magazine with Viktor and Makkachin happy and smiling. Whenever he finally caught up, when he finally managed to skate on the same ice as Viktor, would he take one look at Yuuri and _know_ what a freak he was? Would he walk away or just see right through him? Or would Yuuri have the chance to make the same promises that he made to Vicchan? Yuuri grimaced and forced himself to focus on the Vicchan that actually needed him, was right there with him.

Presentations and suppressants and Fixations and _anxiety_ , all those things could wait till later. Much, much later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In a conversation between Mama Katsuki and a doctor, there's an implication that Yuuri's Presentation was triggered by child abuse, BUT the Katsuki family is never accused! I'm talking like, stranger/danger. There IS no abuse, sexual or otherwise, but it's just something the doctor begins to ask about carefully, like, blink and you miss it implications, until they figure out the real trigger.
> 
> Yuuri has a panic attack and calls himself names, mostly "freak" and a "monster". There's a reference to a stalker that Viktor had in the past (safely in jail by this point and Viktor was never assaulted) that Yuuri compares himself to. 
> 
> In honor of the show, there's also straightbaiting in the first few paragraphs.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His black eyes lit up and the biggest smile Yuuri had ever seen shined across the room at him. He was small, lithe, and dark-skinned and dark-haired, and the first impression Yuuri got was: bright. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a brief scene of an (almost?) panic/anxiety attack in the second half of the 4CC scene. Yuuri takes medication (I RESEARCHED AND IT IS ALLOWED), but says some super derogatory things about himself and medication he needs. Please, these are NOT my own personal beliefs. I believe very much in the need for medication and therapy for anyone with mental illness, and no one is less than anyone else for having a mental illness. Find a therapist you can trust and let them help you! 
> 
> Yuuri, however, has baggage and does not agree with my personal beliefs, so you are forewarned and forearmed. Please skip the scene if you may be triggered by this kind of self-deprecating message!!

America was… so very different from Japan. Two years later, and Yuuri was still struggling to get the ground settled under his feet. Celestino was a great coach, and the rink was great, _big_. None of his rinkmates were rude or crass. He had managed to get gold at the past two years' Japanese Nationals, attended the past two 4CCs and made it to the podium with a bronze on only his second try. This year, Celestino said with his new quad and perfected triple axel, he could maybe even make a silver. 

If he didn’t choke. 

The main problem was: Yuuri didn’t have a… a _safe space_ other than his own bedroom. In his first semester, a hockey player had been his roommate, but had graduated and he had been alone in his athlete's dorm ever since. It was nice, being able to come home and breathe in a way he hadn’t while Trinity had been there. She’d been loud and playful, with a group of friends she always had over, cooking and watching movies or sports events. When she had doubled down to study, she had been nice enough company, but like most Americans, her Alpha scent was overwhelming, uncovered and unnoticed (by _her_ ), and Yuuri had retreated to the safety of his room after just a few hours. He had heard her whisper quietly, sadly even, to her friends that she thought Yuuri didn’t like her, maybe he was even racist.

Yuuri made sure to leave her carefully wrapped leftovers and encouraging notes on the whiteboard, especially when her season had picked up and finals loomed, after he had heard that. Travelling for his events and her leaving had been a relief that he still felt guilty about two years later. 

Classes were interesting, when he could attend a full semester. And his online courses weren’t bad, either. But it meant he barely knew his year-mates, even in his own major, and he wasn’t invited out. And the rink was always full of people he barely recognized. Whenever he went, he wondered just how many of the others thought he was too proud, too rude, too quiet to get to know. And if they tried, how boring would he be, with his schedule being only classes-practice-homework-practice, then rinse and repeat, unless it was in-season when he couldn’t go out drinking, couldn’t go out eating, and was off and on a plane and in a different country almost every month?

By now, his third January in this new country, he knew maybe three other skaters under Celestino’s wing and looked forward to Skype calls with Mari-neechan almost as much as he looked forward to the sliver of time, a pitiful two hours a week, he got alone on the ice after hours. A hard-fought battle he’d finally won last summer (on the condition he attempted zero jumps, even the ones he was good at, while alone). 

He smiled as Mari-neechan appeared, a cigarette hanging unlit from her mouth, face as impassive as ever. Just barely, he saw her mouth quirk, the corners of her eyes tighten, when his video came into focus. 

“It’s not too early, is it?” Yuuri asked, like he usually did. Mari rolled her eyes. 

“It’s too late to hang up now, bro,” she said, also as she usually did, though this time in English. She had started using it more often to practice a while ago; knowing English made it easier to keep track of his performances abroad rather than waiting for translations, she’d said once. 

Yuuri chuckled and shrugged awkwardly. Mari took this as the cue it was to begin relaying the news of Hasetsu. How yet another onsen had closed– _don’t worry, Yu-topia is doing fine_ – something insane the Nishigori toddlers had done– _I’m very sure I’ll never have children, Yuuri, they are demons_ – and how Minako’s latest ballet class’s Christmas recital had gone– _she really played up the dating idea, made it a dinner and show this year_.

“How are Okaasan and Otousan? And Vicchan?” Yuuri asked, still smiling at the idea of Minako’s adorable beginner’s class putting on the Nutcracker for dozens of couples in Hasetsu.

“Good. They miss you. Nagoya is a lot closer than Detroit. You could have come down with me,” Mari said, referring to when he'd come in for Nationals and met Mari there. It sounded almost like an after-thought, her eyes on the cigarette she bounced between her fingers like a pen, instead of on her screen. But Yuuri flinched, smile dropping.

“I know…” he whispered softly. He watched his hands twist in his lap. 

“I know in America Christmas and New Year are pretty big. Did you have some fun?” Mari asked, eyebrow rising. 

Yuuri just smiled weakly. “Yeah, Christmas was nice.”

He had convinced the rink-owner to lend him the key and he had skated for hours all Christmas. For New Year’s, he’d watched the New York Ball drop, then watched youtube videos of Viktor’s GPF routines on loop while he drank all his shitty, non-alcoholic champagne and passed out on his bed. It had been…

Fun. 

Mari’s eyes narrowed. “Where you go? You go over to New York? Okaasan still is waiting for pictures.”

“Just… Stayed around here. You know I couldn’t go to Times Square, not on New Year’s. The crowd…” Yuuri grimaced. At least that sounded plausible. 

“Still having problems with smell, hm? You should talk to the doctor. That’s what your school money is paying for, yeah? You can use the college hospital all the time.”

“I have, Mari-neechan. She suggested, um, said I should try ‘blockers, but they’re expensive here,” Yuuri sighed. She also suggested a weaker kind of suppressant, or doing away with them entirely, too, and that sounded like a nightmare. Especially after his last and only experience off them three years ago.

“About doctors,” Mari started slowly. Yuuri blanched. “You are seeing a therapist there? You found a new one?”

“I’m taking my meds,” he replied shortly. Mari stared impassively at him, though it truly wasn’t impassive at all and Yuuri knew he’d have to say more. “I go to see him when I need a new prescription. That’s enough.”

“Yuuri. You need to find another– ”

There was a click of toenails on wood and Yuuri could’ve cried in relief. “Is that Vicchan?”

Mari sighed, but shifted her iPad around. Vicchan appeared in the frame. He looked much the same, tail wagging and tongue lolling, and Yuuri was not _not_ crying at the sight of his poodle. 

“Vicchan!” 

Those floppy ears perked up and suddenly Vicchan was scrabbling towards the iPad, yapping excitedly at the mere sound of Yuuri’s voice. The next few minutes, Yuuri had devolved into excited, Japanese baby-talk, cooing and praising his over-excited dog while Mari barely managed to keep Vicchan from destroying the iPad on accident. 

Finally, Vicchan was settled in Mari’s lap and the iPad was held in front of both them. Fortunately, Mari did not bring up the therapist, or his anxiety meds, or anything similar when she took control of the conversation again.

“So. New semester. New roommate? It’s been… two years since the last one?” she asked. Yuuri nodded, still grinning at the contentedly panting Vicchan. 

“They’re from Thailand, and a lot younger than me. We probably won’t have anything to say to each other,” Yuuri said, frowning slightly. “I only know they’ve got to be an Alpha or Beta if they’re rooming with me.”

“Hey, Yuuri, look at me,” Mari said sternly, this time in Japanese. He looked up from Vicchan, though it felt like he had to physically wrench his eyes away. “You’re a good kid. Anyone will be love to be your friend. Don’t push them out before they get a chance. You deserve more than the posters on your walls.”

Her dark eyes glanced over his shoulder to where at least three were mostly in view. Yuuri’s cheeks heated even as he scowled. 

“I don’t want to talk about him.”

“If you would just try– ”

“I’m not talking about him.” Yuuri said in a voice so short and clipped that Mari actually listened. With a loud, aggravated sigh, but she dropped it. At Vicchan’s worried whine, Yuuri’s shoulder drooped and guilt crushed his lungs. “I’ll try. With the new roommate. To be friends.”

Even with her minute expressions, Yuuri could see how much that pleased Mari. There was real relief in the fall of her shoulders and tilt of her smirk. 

“They will be your friend in no time if you try,” she said. Yuuri scoffed lightly and glanced away, blush back with a vengeance. “When are they coming?”

“Today, actually. Any minute.”

“... are you using me to hide before they get there?”

“NO!” Yuuri exclaimed. Mari’s eyebrow rose. He groaned and hid his face in his hands, knocking his glasses almost off. “Yes.”

She actually laughed, head tilting back, as Vicchan barked happily with her. Yuuri smiled softly, putting his glasses back to rights. They spoke a little more as the sounds of the onsen coming to life in the background picked up. This early, it was probably just their parents cleaning up from the night before, the few guests coming down for miso and tea. Occasionally, Mari would look off screen, frown, then look back. Soon enough, she would have to go and help, and Yuuri’s chest was already squeezing tight at the thought. 

He really should’ve gone home last month while he was in Japan.

There was a quiet beep of the front door unlocking. Yuuri turned towards his bedroom door. Mari frowned around the unlit cigarette in her mouth, and Vicchan barked louder, as if trying to regain his owner’s attention. 

“Hello!? Katsuki Yuuri?” called an unfamiliar voice. 

He leaned carefully back, balancing on the wheels of his chair to peer around the corner of his doorjamb. Across the small common room, the front door was held wide open by a giant wheeled suitcase. Next to it stood a boy barely bigger than the suitcase with a white and orange face mask pulled under his chin and a gym bag covered in iron-on patches hanging from his shoulder. His black eyes lit up and the biggest smile Yuuri had ever seen shined across the room at him. He was small, lithe, and dark-skinned and dark-haired, and the first impression Yuuri got was: _bright_. 

“You look just like your pictures! Not those terrible selfies on insta, but the ones Ciao Ciao sent me. You need a lot of work on your socials, new best friend, and you’re lucky I came!” the boy said. He threw his gym bag onto the (shitty) dorm-provided couch and raced down the hall. 

Yuuri _eep_ ed, flailing in shock to sit upright, only to lose balance on the wheels and fall with a loud thud. His glasses knocked askew, there was definitely a bruise on his elbow, and the phone in his hand went skittering over the floor. 

It slid to a stop at the boy’s feet. A loud, unceasing series of barking came from the phone and the boy blinked down at it. Yuuri scrambled to his feet, but the boy got to it first. 

“Well, aren’t you the cutest!? I’m more of a hamster daddy, but this little guy is so cute! Hello there, I’m Phichit Chulonant!” he waved at the screen and cooed at the barking toy poodle. 

“Ah!” Yuuri snatched the phone quickly. Phichit held up his hands with an innocent smile. “Vicchan. His name is Vicchan,” Yuuri said in his halting English. He looked to the phone and said in rapid-fire Japanese, “Mari-neechan, I have to go. Tell Okaasan and Otousan I’m fine. And Vicchan,” the poodle finally stopped barking to pant happily at Yuuri’s stern voice, “be good.” He smiled when Vicchan sat nicely, only his little tag wagging in a blur. “Good boy, Vicchan. I miss you, too.”

“Take care, Yuuri. And, hey, Pitcheet,” Mari added in slightly louder English. Phichit leaned in close and Yuuri leaned a little further away. 

“It’s Phichit!” he said with that same disarmingly bright smile. 

“Hn, Phichito-kun. Take care of my brother. He is… idiot.”

“Mari-neechan!” Yuuri exclaimed. She merely smirked at him as Phichit laughed with a hand on his belly. 

“I’ll find you on facebook and give you updates!”

“I like you.”

The call ended. 

“Oh, she’s funny! She’s your sister? All my sisters are loud and bossy,” Phichit said grinning. Yuuri stuck his phone in his pocket. 

“Mari-neechan is definitely bossy,” he said with a sigh. “Do you need help with your things?”

“You’re so nice! But I don’t have much and I’m stronger than I look,” Phichit said. As if to prove it, he rushed back to the open door, grabbed the large suitcase with one hand, swung it easily into the living room, barely letting the wheels touch the floor, and closed the door with the other hand. “This old thing will probably scratch all these nice floors worse than if your poodle lived here. I’ll just unpack out here first, if that’s okay?”

“We trim his toenails,” Yuuri protested absently as he frowned. “I can stay in my room–”

“What, why? This is the perfect time to chat! Also, do you think I can use that corner over there for some hamsters? I had to find all of my babies homes before moving here and it just won’t feel right without a hamster area!” Phichit asked eagerly. 

“I don’t mind hamsters… area? An area?” Yuuri repeated dumbly. 

“You’ll see!” Phichit said with a singsong lilt. 

He paused and looked around. The bare coffee table, the ratty couch, the dingy walls, the simple counter that passed for a kitchen with a hotplate and a secondhand coffee percolator. The only thing on the fridge was a WalMrt bought whiteboard and a tiny poodle magnet holding up a small piece of notebook paper. It had the ice rink times, and Celestino’s phone numbers and email on it. After his slow look around, he propped his hands on his hips and turned to Yuuri.

“Haven’t you been here for two years?”

Yuuri _urk_ ed and cringed. “Y-yeah, but I’ve been busy.”

“Right, you were already in Seniors when you came out. But… still! Where are the posters? The books? The mess?”

“I’m pretty tidy–”

Phichit passed right by him, scooped up the chair in his doorway, and before Yuuri could catch on, peeked in his room. Phichit whistled. 

“OH! This is much better!”

Yuuri screeched and rushed forward. He slammed his arm between Phichit and the rest of the room, red all over and glasses even more askew than before. “Wh-what are you–?”

“A Nikiforov fan! Like most the skating world,” Phichit said with a wink. Yuuri noticed the eyeliner then, how could he have missed it earlier? Phichit pointed at one taken during Viktor’s first Olympic gold program. “I have that one, that was an amazing program! But wow, some of these are from his Junior days. Hardcore!”

“Please, get out,” Yuuri squeaked. Phichit blinked at him. 

“Oh, sorry. I’m not shy about anything. Wait till you see all my posters! But I’ll make sure to stay out,” he promised while backing up a step. Yuuri sighed softly and closed his door. Phichit cocked his head to the side. “Didn’t take you for that kinda Alpha, but lucky for us, I’m pretty chill.”

“That… that kinda of Alpha– how did you even know?” Yuuri asked, baffled. With the patches and his suppressants, most people couldn’t tell even if they could get as close as Phichit had. 

Phichit grinned and flashed red eyes. “I’ve got a pretty keen nose actually, and I just get people. I’ve got a knack.”

“I… I don’t think we could be more different if we tried,” Yuuri whispered, a numb kind of foreboding overcoming him. 

“Being different is fun! Would you rather have a roommate just like you? I’d get in so much trouble if there was someone else just like me,” Phichit said with a laugh. Yuuri’s mouth twitched. “Look, let’s start again, properly.”

“Huh?”

Phichit held out a hand. “I’m Phichit Chulonant, an Alpha. I’m from Bangkok, I’m seventeen, and my favorite movie is _The King and the Skater_. I’ve wanted to skate since the moment I saw it when I was, I dunno, five?”

Yuuri bit his lip, then straightened up and held out a hand. “Katsuki Yuuri. Call me Yuuri. I’m twenty, an Alpha, and I just like skating. And gaming, I guess.”

Phichit grinned and they shook hands. “We're so American already!” he said on yet another laugh. “Speaking of American, I’m starving, so we have to get something deliciously unhealthy and watch movies while I unpack!”

“Um… I could get something some Lou’s, it’s the best deli–”

Phichit gasped in horror. “A sandwich? This is my first night in America, Yuuri! I need something disgusting horrible for my body. And covered in cheese!”

“Uh…” Yuuri paled slightly. “I, um, gain weight pretty easily, so… and cheese is um…” he trailed off awkwardly. 

“No worry, I got us covered!” Phichit ran over to his giant luggage, stared at it, then zipped open and dug around one corner. The next moment box after box after box, all bright blue and covered in both English and Thai, showered on the ground. 

“Is that… are those all lactaid?” Yuuri asked as his mouth twitched. Phichit grabbed one and stood up, brandishing it with a proud grin. “You know you can buy those here?”

“You think I was gonna come to America not ready? I’m going to eat so much pizza I’m going to _die_.” He tossed the box to Yuuri, whom caught it with barely a fumble. “And you’re dying with me. I’ve had real pizza once, and it was a religious experience, okay? But all my family hates it. I don’t really eat much meat, though. Do you think they have seafood pizza in America?”

Yuuri sighed, but he couldn’t help the smile curving up the side of his mouth. “I wouldn’t trust a seafood pizza here.” He pulled out his phone and pulled up his contact list. “They do have something called Cheese Lover’s, though. It has about five kinds of cheese and cheese-stuffed crust. The place I order from has vegan wings, too.”

“Vegan wings? Cheese Lover’s? Cheese stuffed crust!?” Phichit exclaimed, eyes starry. Yuuri finally laughed out loud and hit dial. 

“They have vegan pizzas, too, but you want cheese, so..." Yuuri glanced up and pointed at him with one finger. "Don’t you dare tell Coach.” Phichit made a ‘zipping’ motion across his lips and winked. 

His warning, in the end, was moot. Phichit took so many selfies of their night of ‘debauchery’ that Celestino would find out by morning, if he hadn’t already. There were two liters of Pepsi, a dozen vegan spicy wings (the "spicy" of which Phichit scoffed at and Yuuri may have teared up a little), and a large pizza so covered with cheese that they had exchanged glances and popped extra lactaid, just in case. Somehow Phichit’s suitcase was never fully unpacked, and they fell asleep sprawled and groaning on the couch while _The King and the Skater_ ’s menu screen looped all night. 

It was probably the best night Yuuri had ever had in America. 

* * *

Phichit took to college life in Detroit like a duck to water. He filled the spaces in their dorm with the scent of spicy Thai food, summer sunshine in the middle of winter, and, well, wood shavings from the giant hamster complex they had spent several weekends building and adding onto before even getting the hamsters. Although, for the most part, Yuuri stayed on the fringes of Phichit’s blooming social life, and Phichit was kind enough to never invite people over without giving Yuuri notice (which he used to lock his bedroom door and then high-tail it out of there until the coast was clear), Yuuri was, inevitably, drawn in. Phichit was a _force_. Yuuri wasn’t far off from comparing him to sunshine, since the young Alpha drew people with the gravitational force _of the damn sun_. With every new club, association, party, class, and coffee shop friend Phichit made, he was adamant that Yuuri was still his best friend. 

_No, not because you’ll turn twenty-one this year and will buy me alcohol, Yuuri! You don’t turn twenty-one till November, do you think I’d play a long con that long!?_

_Yes, I really do. I would never underestimate you._

_See, this, this is why you’re my best friend. Bestie Selfie!_

_Phichit, no!_

_Phichit, yes!_

It was odd for Yuuri at first, realizing that Phichit was indeed his best friend within a month of moving in. One of the closest friends he’d ever had, perhaps even more than Yuuchan? It was mostly odd because _a month? Really?_ And also, Phichit was seventeen and Yuuri was already twenty. He hadn’t been sure they would have anything in common, let alone be friends. But under Phichit’s innocent smiles and boundless energy was a very keen mind, and Yuuri didn’t just mean the engineering degree Phichit had a scholarship for (or the fact he could help Yuuri with advanced coding projects sometimes). Phichit also had a the same ridiculously snarky and meme-dropping humor that Yuuri had (and that he had hidden until Phichit heard him whisper ‘ _who’s a good doge, so wow much floof_ ’ when they had met a friendly golden retriever in the park one day). 

Paired with their similar senses of humor, Phichit had an almost innate sense of people’s boundaries. After only a few trials and errors, he knew when to hold back and when to push forward. He knew when Yuuri really wanted to disappear from the world and play games in the comfort of his room, and when he actually had an overwhelmingly itchy need to go out and do something, _anything_. Somehow, Phichit had found not only Yuuri’s secret competitive streak, but also the impulsive daring that Yuuri barely admitted to himself he had. 

This was one of those times; where Yuuri was frowning at his Russian and coding homework and Phichit was smiling at his door, and Yuuri wanted to get up and go without hearing a detail. But his own innate sense of caution (and knowing his scholarship depended on his grades) kept him seated. He merely raised an inquiring eyebrow.

“We’re going out!”

“If it’s to get more PVC pipes for your hamster kingdom, I refuse. You have _two_ hamsters and that thing takes up half the living room.”

“Okay, firstly, you loved making that with me,” Phichit retorted with a twinkle in his eyes. It had taken Yuuri a while to realize they were actually dark grey, not black, and they almost always had that twinkle in them. “Secondly, there will be more hamsters soon!”

“More hamsters?” Yuuri interrupted with an actual frown. 

“Most importantly,” Phichit continued without missing a beat, “we’re going to AP Club.”

“We’re going to what?”

“It’s technically Asian-Pacific Culture Students Association, and it’s great! Did you know like half the club already knew you when I mentioned you? Most of them didn’t know your _name_ , but the moment I said ‘the ridiculously pretty Japanese boy who never makes eye contact’ about half the room screeched and the other half swooned. I knew you were secretly a heart-breaker!”

“I- what? Wait. What? No, they didn’t!” Yuuri sputtered, heat suffusing his cheeks. “What did you tell them about me?!”

“Only the truth. And sure, I may have exaggerated, but not much. There were screeches and swooning, no lie. I think one guy cried when I said you were a figure skater.”

“Wh-what? Why?”

“Imagining you in spandex, I bet. He looked like he was imagining the face of God. I have a feeling somebody’s noticed dat ass.”

“I… Oh my god. Phichit, no.”

“Phichit, yes,” he said, downright gleefully. “He might’ve actually been Japanese, so maybe he just knew who you were,” he added a little more thoughtfully.

“I… I have… all this homework,” Yuuri said hopefully. _Russian and coding, maybe at the same time, with maybe two cans of Redbull and a dozen 5-hr energy shots, all combined would that be enough to erase this conversation from my mind?_

“You’ll be fine taking off a night. C’mon, I know I’m great, but you deserve a hundred friends, Yuuri. Let me introduce you to some awesome people,” Phichit said, big grey eyes wide and pleading. He stayed at Yuuri’s doorway, though, not moving one step into the room. 

Yuuri sighed, trying not to smile. Phichit was so over the top with his compliments, it was hard to argue or protest them. But they still felt somehow genuine. It was… awkward. And maybe a little nice. Phichit was right, though; Yuuri had spent two and half years making zero friends, and if Phichit wasn’t… _Phichit_ , he would still have no friends. It wasn’t fair to him, honestly, that Phichit had to constantly plead and beg for Yuuri to come along on friend meet ups, just because Phichit was kind and for some unfathomable reason enjoyed Yuuri’s company. If Yuuri made other friends, the pressure of being a good friend and person would ease a bit. Phichit wouldn’t have to worry so much. Could enjoy himself with his more interesting friends. Yuuri’s hands curled into fists on his lap. He should go. For Phichit. 

“All right. It… it sounds like fun. Even if there isn’t any swooning,” Yuuri said with a quirk of his mouth. Phichit snickered. 

“Oh, there will be swooning. You’ll just refuse to notice like usual,” Phichit had his phone out as he spoke, fingers tapping in a blur. “You don’t even know how much money you’re making me tonight. No one thought you’d come.”

Yuuri actually laughed out loud as he got up and went for his winter things, still thrown over the foot of the bed from where he left them after class. 

“So that’s the real reason. You have a bet.”

“Bet _s_ ,” Phichit sang. “Let’s go!”

They trudged through the freezing damp that was Detroit in late January. Their face masks muffled their voices, but it didn’t stop them complaining about the cold and the lack of ice time they had thanks to the hockey team. Which lead to the upcoming 4CC’s in Osaka that they were gearing up for. With only one mostly-reliable quad and triple axel under his belt, he was worried about whether or not he would make the podium again, but Phichit spent most of their walk gushing over his free program and step sequences. 

“Honestly, Ciao Ciao should trust you more! You look barely winded by the end of a four minute program. You should do more combination jumps nearer the end, judges eat that up!” Phichit shoved into a building and they both sighed in relief at the immediate warmth. 

“I don’t know. Coach has seen me during competitions… he knows what I’m capable of,” Yuuri demurred quietly. Phichit rolled his eyes as he tugged his hamster-face-decorated mask under his chin. 

“Ciao Ciao thinks he knows what you’re capable of because you’re never yourself with him, Yuuri. He’s a coach, not your dad. You can tell him to bugger off sometimes,” he pointed out. Yuuri flinched away in shock, eyes wide behind his glasses. 

“Phichito-kun, I couldn’t! Anyway, this is your first major international competition! We should be talking about you!”

Phichit just laughed, flapping a hand, and dragged Yuuri into a large auditorium room. Around fifty students were spread around the room, drinks and snacks spread over the table set up in front of the chalkboard, and a pleasant buzz of conversation filling the large area. Scarves and hats and gloves were spread out on the folding auditorium chairs, but most people were still in their coats. It might have been warmer than outside, but it wasn’t _that_ warm. Yuuri was relieved he wouldn’t have to deal with the scents of so many new people all at once. As he followed Phichit to a row to drop his things, he didn’t notice the stares their way. He did notice Phichit's cheeky grin and wave, though, and he squinted a little suspiciously at him. 

“Hi!” said a breathless boy’s voice from behind them. Yuuri turned to see four people fanned out and staring at them. The closest one was a boy about Yuuri’s age, brown eyes wide and naturally-tanned face flushed. _If he was that hot, he should take off the coat_ , Yuuri thought with a small frown. “I’m Mateo Bautista, I’m the association’s treasurer. This is Cherry Ting, the president,” he motioned to the pretty girl behind him, who waved, “and Jim Lai, the vice-president,” a severely sleep-deprived dude with a scraggly beard and a Redbull in his hand grinned sleepily, “ and the social—”

“I’m Young-Soon Choi. I’m basically the club’s PR and social media director!” cut in a very energetic (for a Wednesday evening) girl with heavy-black framed glasses and a short, black bob. “Mateo helps out a lot, but you could, too, if you’re interested?”

Yuuri stepped back but managed not to wince. “N-no, that’s not really, um, my roommate, Ph-Phichit Chulanont is really—”

“Have you seen Phichit’s follower count? He doesn’t have time to work our socials, too. There’s not that many Japanese members, you should meet them!” Young-Soon said eagerly. Yuuri froze in shock as her hand wrapped around his wrist.

Thankfully, she was a Beta, and even without patches, her scent and pheromones were light enough that his skin didn’t crawl. He was just… exceedingly uncomfortable. He quickly followed her, hoping the sooner he got to the other Japanese students, the sooner she would let him go. “It was nice to meet you!” he said over his shoulder at the other officers of the club. Mateo Bautista looked like he was actually pouting. Must not like being steamrolled by his fellow officer. There were maybe five students standing in a small knot across the room, most holding cups of still steaming tea. The familiar sounds of Japanese actually _was_ comforting, and he couldn’t help speeding up a little. 

“Hey, everyone! This is Katsuki Yuuri,” Young-Soon announced. As if everyone should know his name, a wide, excited smile on her face. She did, at last, drop his arm and he bowed quickly. 

“Sorry, I hope I’m not interrupting,” he said. 

“Of course not! We’ve been wondering when you’d finally come to the meetings. We couldn’t believe Phichito-kun when he said he would bring you!” one of them, a boy, said with a happy smile. He spoke in Japanese, his Kansai dialect thick enough that Yuuri barely kept from grinning at the sound of it.

“I’ve seen you in at least half of my classes. I’m in majoring in Robotics, so you’re in most of my Computer Science classes,” the single girl said, her own Japanese standard and without a single trace of a regional accent. 

“Sorry… I don’t usually pay much attention around me, especially in class,” Yuuri said with a slight blush. "I mean, I pay attention to the lecture, of course! Just not to the other students! That's still rude, oh wow." The group laughed as he floundered and blushed, facepalming a little. 

“You’re _Katsuki Yuuri_. You’re basically Japan’s Ace in figure skating. We totally understand!” said another guy. All of them suddenly lit up as if remembering. Yuuri _urk_ ed and wondered which was worse: waiting for the next thing they were about to say about his career (Ace? Really? He had won the gold at nationals only twice since entering the Senior division! He hadn’t won gold in any international competition since entering Seniors, either!), or let Young-Soon drag him around the club more. 

Luckily, there was a third option. 

“Are you having fun, Yuuri? I see Young-Soon brought you right to the crowd that would know you best,” Phichit said as he neatly inserted himself between Yuuri and the Korean girl in question, who was looking at Phichit with a slight frown on her face. Frowning. At _Phichit_? Why?

“Y-yeah, it’s been nice,” Yuuri said with a hesitant smile at the group. Every single one of them beamed at him, the girl immediately blushing and hiding behind her tea. 

“I told you you’d like it!”

“You were right,” Yuuri agreed, huffing slightly when Phichit knocked their shoulders together. 

“You should always listen to me. I’m always right. That’s why we’re going to get two more hamsters tomorrow.”

“Phichito-kun!” Yuuri burst out laughing, hiding behind his hand a moment later. One boy immediately left the group and tripped on a chair on his way to his stuff.

“Hamsters! I love hamsters, Yuuri-kun!” Young-Soon said eagerly. 

“Um, they’re Phichito-kun’s hamsters. I’m more of a dog person,” Yuuri said awkwardly. “Not that hamsters aren’t great! They’re very great!”

Phichit laughed. “I’ll turn you into a hamster fan in no time.”

“Oh no… I think I’ll always like dogs best. Nothing is cuter than Vicchan.”

“Vicchan? Who’s that?”

Yuuri turned to the Robotics major. He needed to get their names soon. “My dog. He’s a toy poodle. Would you like to see pictures?”

“Yes!”

“Young-Soon, you should come with me. It’s time to circulate, for twitter!” Phichit said, tucking her arm into his and leading her away as the small group of Japanese students huddled around Yuuri’s phone and began to exclaim in excited Japanese over the poodle, as well as the glimpses of his family’s onsen and Hasetsu’s beach.

“I was networking with the new guy,” Young-Soon protested with a scowl. “I should take pictures of him. He’s basically a celebrity.”

“The only place Yuuri’s pictures belong are on his own socials, or mine. Don’t even try, honey,” Phichit warned. Young-Soon huffed and jerked away to find her other friends. Job finished, Phichit went back to collecting his pay off from the suckers who also didn’t realize ‘Phichit is always right, and always gets results’.

When they left later, Yuuri’s contact list having grown by more than ten people, most of which were drawn to him and his cute dog pictures, Yuuri was actually still smiling. The itchy restless feeling was gone, though he was definitely about as exhausted as he would have been slogging through his homework. People were tiring. 

“You know you have to come to International Club, right? And PRIDE is putting on a burlesque at the end of the semester, we should join in!”

“A burlesque?” Yuuri sputtered incredulously. “Just be happy I came to this and let me think about the others,” he said with a shake of his head. His smile softened into something more serious. “I guess PRIDE is okay… I’ve been meaning to go, but… Maybe. I won’t be doing a burlesque, though.”

“Spoilsport! You’d make the club so much money with an ass like that,” Phichit said. Yuuri made a noise similar to a tea kettle. 

“You’re seventeen! Stop talking about my ass!” Phichit burst out laughing. Yuuri rolled his eyes and tugged his hat closer around his ears. Not that he was feeling particularly cold with the amount of blushing he was doing under his layers. “I’m starving. Don’t tell Coach and we can stop at Del Taco before heading home.”

“Yes! I’ve successfully corrupted you! Live, my son, live!”

“Again, you’re seventeen,” Yuuri said dryly as Phichit crowed and threw his arms up. He smirked a little. “And you’re also paying, since we’re talking about corruption.”

“Hey, there’s nothing corrupt about a little innocent bet with suckers.”

“You’re getting me two soft tacos and extra guac now.”

“Oh c’mon, you never buy extra guacamole. It’s a stupid high fee!”

“Sucker.”

Phichit gasped, eyes wide in faux-shock, as Yuuri laughed behind his mask loudly. 

* * *

Kansai International Airport wasn’t quite Fukuoka (or at all), but just walking through the Gate and seeing the signs in Japanese, and hearing the familiar cadences of his native language, it still felt, a little, like coming home. It, almost ironically, also made him miss Hasetsu even more. He stopped and closed his eyes, breathing in and exhaling slowly as the nervous tension of travelling released. His check-in bag came around the the conveyor belt and Yuuri tucked his mask under his chin and moved to haul it off. Phichit was posing under a large _Welcome to Osaka_ sign and smiling, also looking freakishly fresh and ready for adventure. 

A hand fell on his shoulder and some of the tension immediately returned, but he forced himself not to knock the hand away as he turned towards Celestino. His voluminous hair was somehow still voluminous despite almost 24 hours of flights and layovers. His and Phichit’s luggage and all their costume garment bags were already placed neatly on a cart, and he took Yuuri’s last bag. When he also took Yuuri’s carry-on backpack, Yuuri frowned in confusion. 

“Make sure you get back to the hotel for enough sleep,” Celestino said. Completely nonsensically. 

“What?”

“What’s going on?” Phichit asked with shining eyes. 

“Oh Yuuuuuri!” sang out a very familiar voice. 

Yuuri’s shoulders drew up, his eyes widened, and his glasses almost slid off his noise as he spun around. Celestino was laughing, patting Yuuri’s back, and Phichit already had his phone up. Just outside the baggage claim, Minako was waving a banner and holding an overly exaggerated arabesque with a wide and mischievous grin on her face— an expression he was all too familiar with. Yuuri was already smiling when he caught sight of the more stoic and neutral face of his sister just behind and to the side of the banner and Minako. There were tears on his lashes as he grinned, mouth parted wide and eyes shining. He barely even noticed Phichit’s gasp of delight and his ever-present phone. 

“Minako-sensei! Mari-neechan? Why are you- How?”

“Surprise, little brother,” Mari said, smirking lightly. “It’s called a plane. You just got off one.”

“You think we wouldn’t come and see you when you’re only in Osaka? We’re so proud of you, Yuuri!” Minako exclaimed, shaking the banner wildly. 

“I’m really glad your family came to see you,” Phichit said, coming up next to Yuuri. His phone was finally gone. Yuuri realized then that neither Celestino or Phichit understood what had just been said. 

“Um, yes, this is Okukawa Minako, she taught me dancing for years,” Yuuri introduced quickly in English. “And my sister, Katsuki Mari.”

Celestino greeted them both with his usual gusto and a single air-cheek kiss for both Minako and Mari. Mari blushed, somewhere between uncomfortable and pleased. Phichit bowed and greeted them in Japanese, like he’d seen Yuuri do, and then immediately asked for their social network handles. 

“I made a twitter and an instagram just for this moment,” Minako said with an unholy amount of glee. “I’ll finally be able to see what my boy is doing in America.”

“Oh, your English is great!” Phichit noted. Minako winked and smirked. 

“She travelled internationally for years for dance. And she’s lying. She already had an twitter and insta. She’s been following ice skaters for longer than me,” Yuuri said dryly. 

“We do need to get going, Phichit. We have a hotel to check into,” Celestino said, looking at his watch. The teen pouted, then turned back to the Japanese trio. 

“We’ll have to talk more while we’re here! We can all go sightseeing together after practice tomorrow!”

“Wait, where am I going?” Yuuri asked in confusion. 

“We’re taking you to dinner. Then, we will take you to the hotel after. You have a curfew,” Mari explained with a nod at Celestino. 

“But I didn’t know Phichito-kun was coming, too! Why don’t you come with us?” Minako invited. Phichit’s eyes sparkled. 

“I don’t want to impose!”

“We invited Cialdini-sensei, too, but he said no,” Minako said, her mouth pursed into a slight moue. “I was hoping to have a real drinking partner.”

“Not tonight, but next time, I’d love to,” Celestino said, hand over his heart. “Phichit, as long as you stay with Yuuri and come back with him, you can go. You’re still my responsibility, kid, so don’t make me regret it.”

“Of course!” Phichit said, giving Celestino a peace sign. Celestino sighed and ran a hand over his hair, then scoffed and smiled. 

“Next time, ladies.” He carted away their luggage. 

“It’s time!” Minako shoved the banner into Mari’s hands, then linked her arms through Yuuri and Phichit’s to haul them forward. “We’re in Osaka, so the first thing we’re doing is eating okonomiyaki!”

“Minako-sensei, we’re mid-season,” Yuuri said. 

“Oh, that’s the pancake thing, right? Yuuri, let’s split one and then we’ll have something boring and healthy afterwards!” Phichit suggested. Yuuri’s stomach rumbled at the idea of fresh okonomiyaki. 

“Okay, just a half for each.”

“You’re so wild, little brother. How can I keep up?” Mari drawled from beside him. Yuuri rolled his eyes as Phichit laughed. 

“I also want a backstage pass to wherever you’re practicing. I don’t trust that coach of yours to know a plié from a turn-out,” Minako said with a frown. “I’d hate to think of what poor training has done to your flexibility.”

“I'll see what I can do, but it might be impossible, Minako-sensei. And I’ve been doing more yoga,” Yuuri muttered. 

“Yeah, I do it every morning in our living room and, usually, I can drag Yuuri with me. He’s usually grumpy straight through Urdvha Mukha Savanasana, but no worry, Minako-sensei, he’s still plenty flexible,” Phichit said. His phone was back in his hand. “I’ve got pictures!”

“Phichit, no!”

“Phichit, yes!” he chirped, already opening his gallery. 

Yuuri buried his face in his hands as his sister led them outside into the cold. It wasn’t quite as bad as Detroit, but it was definitely still February. There were clumps of grey snow along the edges of the pavement, and Yuuri was more than glad to hide his red face behind a mask when Minako and Phichit exclaimed over Yuuri in various yoga poses. Mari just chuckled and hailed a cab. Bit of an expense for Osaka, but it was probably because they were all too tired and jetlagged from travel to deal with metros or buses. 

“You are a good influence in my absence, Phichito-kun,” Minako said too seriously. Phichit beamed as if he’d been waiting for such approval his whole life. She narrowed her eyes and poked Yuuri in the side. He yelped and only didn’t yank away due to her arm still linked with his. “You better still be dancing. All those years I put in you!”

“I am! I am! Just… usually on my own time.”

“You don’t have a teacher?” Minako demanded. At Yuuri’s headshake, she frowned in thought and then waved a hand with a loud _tch_. “That’s ridiculous. You’ll send me videos so I can keep an eye on you. I don’t like how Mari is the only one who gets to talk to regularly anyway.”

“He does it for the dog,” Mari said with a little shrug. Her eyes were teasing when she glanced down at him. “That’s why I keep Vicchan close to me." She managed to finally hail a cab and get them set on course for the restaurant Minako had up on her phone, suspending conversation for only a few minutes. 

All-in-all, Yuuri didn’t quite mind the teasing. Not when it were these three doing it. He would never admit it out loud, though. He sank into the back seat, somehow squished between Mari and Phichit, Minako in the front seat and imperiously directed the taxi driver as if she were the native Osakan. Phichit only added to the feeling of home instead of feeling like an intruder. It was nice to let Phichit control most of the conversation, too, since he was still too exhausted from the long flight. Besides, Phichit was much more entertaining than Yuuri any day of the week. 

  
Practice had gone so well. He’d been so sure of himself, of his program, still riding the high of his gold just months ago. He had nailed every jump, his steps and spins were as good as they ever were, and he loved his music this year. They weren’t original by any means, but he thought, perhaps, he had been bringing something new, some new interpretation, to his own programs. He had every faith in his choreographers back in Detroit, in Celestino’s solid and simple advice. Mari and Minako surprising him, and Phichit being here as a teammate and competitor, those things had only made him surer. Steadier. 

Until suddenly he wasn’t either those things. His feet were swimming in his vision, his breath too shallow, his heart racing. His vision was limned in red, in a way his suppressants usually kept tamped down, which made his breathing even more erratic. He didn’t have time for Alpha nonsense right now! The first group would be off the ice and he wasn’t that far down the line-up in his own group. 

He needed to get his shit together. 

“Group 1 is ending soon, Yuuri. Yuuri?” There was exasperation and alarm in Celestino’s voice as it barely broke through his dark bubble. It was a familiar sound, but it had his hands gripping at his knees that were encased in slick suffocating spandex. 

“Ciao Ciao, let me, you’ve got the Kiss’n’Cry with Ryan. …Yuuri, hey, loo— can you look at me, Yuuri?”

Phichit’s gentle request had Yuuri blinking away the red in surprise and looking up. Phichit was smiling gently, but his dark eyes were worried. His own group was after Yuuri’s, and he should be in the wings, practicing what steps and movements he could during the wait. Instead, he was here. Trying to fix Yuuri as he broke apart like a novice. Yuuri was Phichit’s _senior_ , this was his first 4CC event, Yuuri should be encouraging _Phichit_. But of course, Phichit wouldn’t need it from someone like him. His eyes dropped and his breath whistled sharply through his teeth. 

“Is there anything I can do to help? Should I call Minako-sensei or Mari?”

Yuuri shook his head. Phichit chewed on his lip, then sighed. “I saw you brought a Xanax prescription with you. Should I get that from your gym bag?”

Yuuri’s shoulders tensed and he visibly flinched. “I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t need it.”

“Yuuri!” Phichit huffed. At Yuuri’s second flinch, he dropped his voice again. “You were given a prescription for a reason, Yuuri. The doctor thinks you need it. Does it help or not?”

After a short pause, Yuuri nodded. Phichit wrestled Yuuri’s phone from his death grip, swiped open the lock screen that he somehow knew the password for, and opened the album labeled ‘Vicchan’. 

“Here, look at this utter cutie,” Phichit said, clicking on a short video of Vicchan learning how to walk on two legs for a treat. Yuuri’s mouth twitched at the memory and video. “I’ll be right back.”

His hands were still shaking, his breath choppy and uneven, but he managed to keep his eyes on his dog for the too long minutes Phichit was gone. He was back and pressing a water bottle and half of a small pill. 

“I saw most of them were already cut, so I thought that’s all—?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri said shortly. As discreetly as possible, with Phichit still kneeling in front of him, Yuuri palmed his pill and drank deep. He was scowling as he lowered his bottle. He was a fraud. Just as bad as a doper. A mentally weak doping fraud that needed pills just to get through a single short skate. He should be better than this. Why was he a disappointment in everything? He couldn’t make friends, he barely scraped a win against Japanese skaters with half his experience, and now he was freaking out over the same damn competition he bronzed in last year? His teeth gritted as he leaned forward and dug his hands in his overgelled hair. 

“Yuuri, it’s okay. Really, it’s okay. You’re gonna make it to that podium again, I know it.”

His breath sobbed out of him. 

“You’re one of the best skaters in the world and I’ll fight anyone who says different, and that means you, too,” Phichit added, tapping the back of Yuuri’s skull with his knuckles. 

This time, the sob sounded more like a laugh, muffled and damp against his knees. 

“Plus, Viktor is waiting for you at World’s, right?” Yuuri’s heart stopped and Phichit continued very softly, “Just think of today as practice for that.”

Yuuri slowly raised his wet, red-rimmed eyes. Not Alpha-red, just regular tearful-red. Phichit winked. “How?” Yuuri croaked and cut off. “How’d you know… about Viktor?”

“Your walls are covered in his face, Yuuri. Usually your phone backgrounds are Vicchan, which don’t think I don’t know where that name came from,” Yuuri blushed, “but whenever you don’t have Vicchan, it’s Viktor from his latest magazine photoshoot or his latest gold medal. It’s obvious you’re a stan.”

Yuuri’s blush worsened. “Yeah. I guess I am…” he whispered. Knowing, himself, just how deep that went. He’d have to be a bit more careful or Phichit would realize it, too. 

“Is it… okay?” Phichit’s hands hovered over Yuuri’s shoulders, whom frowned and nodded once. Phichit gripped his shoulders tightly and leaned a little closer. “All right then, best friend and biggest stan of Viktor Nikiforov. Go out there and do us proud. If I lose to anyone but you, I’ll be kicking your butt.”

“You could win, Phichito-kun!” Yuuri managed to force out around awkward chuckles. 

“Hmm, I guess you’re right. I have gotten a lot better at that triple axel thanks to you. You’ve given all your trade secrets away to the enemy,” Phichit said with a slow nod. 

“I might have given the secrets, doesn’t mean you actually land it more than twice in a practice,” Yuuri retorted, smiling slightly. His hands were a lot steadier now and he sat up a little straighter. 

Phichit gasped, a hand over his mouth. “What? Was that… was that _sassy_ Yuuri? Is he back?”

“Phichito-kun,” Yuuri said on a much more genuine chuckle. 

He looked silly trying to move around on his knees and with his skates on, but Phichit crawled a little closer and held up his phone. “Vogue, Katsuki. This is my first Four Continents!”

The older Alpha sighed, but dutifully raised his fingers in a victory sign. Phichit tutted and slapped his hand down. ' _I said ‘vogue’, Yuuri!'_ After a rapid series of clicks and direction from Phichit, and a black-n-white filter of all things, the picture was loaded to instragram and Yuuri was actually laughing when Celestino walked back their way. There was only a small widening of his eyes to betray his surprise, before he was grinning and dragging them both to their feet. 

Yuuri won bronze again, and Phichit placed 12th out of 25. Not bad at all for no quads and his first 4CC. Minako and Celestino had their drink-off, and the younger trio spent the night eating katsudon in celebration. It wasn’t as good as his mother’s, but the skype call with her, his father, and Vicchan in the middle of dinner made it a little bit better. Even if Mari spent most of the night telling Phichit embarrassing stories of his childhood and showing him pictures of his ridiculous costumes in Juniors.

* * *

He had been going to the AP Club and even PRIDE meetings pretty regularly, but only went to International Students Club twice. Young-Soon was also in ISC and had tried to get Yuuri to head a Japanese cooking event. It had been a nightmare that only Phichit’s swift intervention had solved. Thai Night had been a huge success that Yuuri spent glued to Phichit or Mateo and Kaori-san, the Robotics major, both of whom he’d made pretty good friends with since their first meeting. He had somehow avoided Young-Soon almost the entire night. He hadn’t gone back to ISC since. (He had used 4CC’s as an excuse.)

Phichit had wrapped his bronze around Yuuri’s skates and posted the picture on twitter and Instagram. On _Yuuri’s_ twitter and Instagram. He still had no idea how Phichit had weaseled those passwords out of him. His follower count had jumped past 9,000 and he had woken up to Dragonball Z memes every day for a week. 

Despite Phichit’s best efforts, Yuuri was still more a homebody than a party-goer. He took Phichit out to tour around the places he’d been to already, and few places he hadn’t yet, but any on- or off-campus parties, Yuuri turned down. And warned Phichit being caught there at 17 could get him disqualified from competition. Because of that, they were spending yet another beautiful Friday evening in the library, Yuuri with his laptop and noise-cancelling headphones, Phichit with his way too many books and graph papers. 

“Yuuri,” Phichit said. Yuuri kept clacking away. Phichit poked Yuuri’s squishy cheek and he squinted down at Phichit where he lay slumped over his book. “Why are you wearing patches?”

Yuuri frowned and lowered his headphones. “Wait, what was that?”

“Your patches. Why are you wearing them? No one in the US does,” Phichit said, eyes glancing over where the fabric adhesives covered the sides of Yuuri’s neck. 

He flushed and looked away. “In Japan, everyone does. I feel naked without them, actually. And… um… I like that people think I’m a Beta. Less bother.”

Phichit pursed his lips. “Back home I wore them, because Omegas had to, did you know they could get fined in Thailand if they didn’t? But Alphas didn’t have to! It was so dumb! So I wore them, kinda like a protest.” He sat up and grinned at Yuuri. “I had Omegas friends, but even if I didn’t, it would’ve made me mad. It was the only thing I could do, not that it helped any.”

“I’m sure the thought was appreciated by your friends. One less Alpha pushing their way around with pheromones,” Yuuri said kindly. Phichit shrugged, still smiling a little. 

“I was really to glad to come here, though, since patches are a choice for everyone.”

“They say it’s a choice, but a lot of Omegas do anyway. A lot of…” Yuuri hesitated. “If an assault happens, and an Omega isn’t wearing patches… it’s not supposed to affect the trial, but it does. It’s one of the first things asked about, that and clothes.”

Phichit sighed and nodded. “True.” He looked over at Yuuri thoughtfully. “Would you like me to wear some again? I didn’t bring any from home, but I can go to the nearest CVS or something and get some. I bet the health center gives them out, too. Maybe cheaper.”

“It gives out generic ones for free, but… why?” Yuuri asked, baffled. 

Phichit leaned forward. Yuuri leaned back, hands up between them. Phichit grinned cheekily. 

“Cuz of this,” he said motioning between them. Yuuri’s eyebrows rose over the frames of his glasses. 

“What?”

“You don’t touch, like, at all. The closest we get is when we share the couch and our legs stretch out next to each other. If it’s the whole scenting thing, I can patch up. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, Yuuri!”

“N-no! That’s not…” Yuuri sighed. “I don’t really mind touching, I just… I just don’t. Scents in general, I don’t really… react well.” Yuuri flushed and looked away. 

Phichit leaned back in his chair, so Yuuri could slump comfortably forward again. The younger Alpha tapped his cheek and frowned pensively. 

“What about your scent on anything else? Nothing in our dorm smells like you, only your room. You keep your towels in there to dry!”

Yuuri cringed against his chair. “I… I don’t like it that, either, no.”

“I don’t get it, but okay. You sure me not wearing patches is okay?” Phichit said, picking up a mechanical pencil and clicking it a few times. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. I… I’m getting used to it, actually. It’s…” Yuuri smiled softly. “It reminds me of home sometimes.”

“Really?” Phichit exclaimed. Yuuri flushed red and shrugged. 

“It’s just… nice. I don’t feel threatened or anything, not like I usually do around other Alphas. You just kind of… you remind me of summer. Sunshine. It’s nice, much better than what the dorm used to smell like.”

“Yuuri!!!” Phichit flung himself at Yuuri, hugging him tight around the shoulders. Yuuri laughed and hugged him, much more loosely, around the waist. The ever-present phone made an appearance and Yuuri groaned, rolling his eyes and trying not to smile. Phichit smashed their cheeks together and clicked. “#definitivefriendmoment #yuuchu4life.”

“What is yuuchu?”

“Our friendship name! No worries, I’m ace and aro. We’ll be platonic life partners,” Phichit said with an unrepentant grin. Yuuri just laughed. 

* * *

  
“You are… not serious.”

“Dead serious~!” Phichit said happily. He pushed into the restaurant and tossed a smile over his shoulder. “C’mon, it’s Spring Break and we’ve only got five days before you have to leave for World’s, let’s live a little tonight!”

“You’re still 17, Phichito-kun,” Yuuri groaned, pinching at the bridge of his nose, his glasses barely hanging onto his ears. 

“You keep thinking I’m talking about alcohol. So boring,” Phichit said with a pout. Yuuri just gave him a look. “Okay, so the sign outside was for bottomless margaritas, but that’s not what we’re here for!”

“If it’s not—”

“First, we’re having so many fish tacos. Then, we’re going to—” Phichit grabbed Yuuri’s shoulders and spun him around. To face the bright red and yellows of the large sign in front of the bar, the tasteful red-gowned and red-suited silhouettes of two people dancing front and center. Latin Dance Night was drawn in neon-light-sign letters across the middle of the silhouettes. “Dance!”

Yuuri’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding me.”

“You think I didn’t wring as much information out of Minako-sensei as possible? I know exactly what you’re capable of, Katsuki Yuuri,” Phichit said with an eager grin. 

“I’m not… I mean, it’s been a while,” Yuuri said awkwardly. 

“It’s just like riding a bike!” Phichit said, dragging him towards a table. 

Yuuri pulled up the special menu on the table, scanning over the items on it, then opened his phone. Phichit leaned on his elbow, chin on his hand.

“What are you doing?”

“There’s no calories on this,” Yuuri said absently, eyes on his phone. 

“Yuuri, no!”

“Yuuri, yes. We’re mid-season,” he replied calmly. Phichit giggled. _Giggled_. “You might be naturally thin, but I’m not.”

“We’re about to dance all night! You can let go a little.”

Yuuri fixed Phichit with a look. “I’ve already had pizza twice this semester, and you brought donuts into my house yesterday. I _have_ let go.”

Phichit laughed. “You loved those donuts.”

“You’re a terrible influence,” Yuuri said, looking back at his phone. 

“I’m just keeping a promise,” Phichit chirped. Yuuri looked over at him questioningly. “To your sister and Minako-sensei. I promised I’d look out for you. And making sure you have some fun is part of it.”

Yuuri blinked. Slowly, he ducked his head and smiled towards his menu. “I’ll tell them you’re doing a good job.” 

Phichit beamed brightly. 

The tacos were great, and the fish wasn’t deep fried, so the calorie count wasn’t too high. Yuuri actually managed to enjoy it without too much guilt. Thanks to Phichit, he was getting used to spice, though he still teared up a bit. When the MC came out on stage, Phichit dragged Yuuri immediately to the dance floor. The first dance was a cha-cha and Yuuri relaxed, a smile curving his lips. 

“Do you want to follow or lead?” Yuuri asked as the instructor went through the steps with their partner. 

“You lead the first time, I’ll catch up,” Phichit said eyes on the instructors. 

Which was unnecessary, but Yuuri kept that to himself. They were the professionals and actually Latino. He helped Phichit run through the basic steps, then heard them play a familiar old ‘70s song. In seconds, Phichit was laughing and swaying, steps sure and easy as Yuuri led him through the dance. Even when Phichit stumbled or forgot, Yuuri easily swept him into the next step, or spun him out and spun him back onto the beat. About half the class stayed on the basic steps, but by the end Yuuri and Phichit, and maybe a handful of other couples, were dancing circles over the floor, laughing and showboating, especially when Phichit got the hang of it in the second song. Yuuri actually laughed when Phichit turned it on Yuuri and led him through the steps, with a lot of extra spins— that weren’t traditionally cha-cha at all. 

The second song ended and the MC showed up next to them, smiling.

“I’m so glad you two showed up! Do you mind if I split you up? I usually ask the veterans to spread out occasionally,” she said hopefully. “We have such a good turn out tonight, I could use the extra dancers.”

“I’m not a veteran, it’s all this guy,” Phichit said pushing the flushed Yuuri forward. “He’s trained.”

“Do you mind?” she asked eagerly. 

“Um, no? Phichito-kun…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll catch on fast even without you. Go out there and show off, stud.” Phichit winked. Yuuri scowled. 

“Don’t call me that.”

“Excellent! Come with me!” Yuuri yelped as he was pulled away. 

Yuuri led a few people through the cha-cha again, fumbling and chuckling and keeping an appropriate distance away. The next dance was salsa, and he couldn’t help throwing himself into it. The basic steps were easier than the cha-cha, and there was so much room to play, though he wished he could follow instead of lead sometimes. Just as they moved onto a rumba, he paired up with a pretty girl about his age who looked a little Latina. She smiled when he greeted himself, even more flushed and sweaty. 

“I actually know you already, I’m Alondra, by the way,” she said, the smile quirking into a coy smirk that reminded him a little of Phichit and Minako. 

“What?” Yuuri blurted. She pressed a cup of water in his hands which he chugged down gratefully.

“We were in that terrible aerobics dance class two years ago. I was a first year then, so I was… a little too shy to make friends,” she admitted with a slight blush. 

“Oh, yeah, me, too. My English was pretty bad my first year,” Yuuri said, still pink-cheeked as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“It’s great now! Almost as good as the dancing. Your friend is really picking it up, too,” she pointed out, light brown eyes glancing over his shoulder. 

He looked over to see Phichit being guided by the MC herself on stage, grinning widely at the audience. He waved at Yuuri when he saw him looking and Yuuri huffed a laugh. 

“Yup. That’s Phichito-kun. Oh,” he turned to Alondra. “I should help you learn the steps…?” he trailed off seeing her shaking her head.

“I know a rumba. Grew up in a Afro-Cuban household. My mami would throw a chancla from across the country if she found out I forgot,” Alondra said with a wink. "It's an important part of your heritage, _mija_!" she said, her accent a little thicker and eyes rolling heavenward. Yuuri smiled at the obvious mimicry. 

“Are you sure you want to dance with me? I learned from a great teacher, but I’m not an expert,” Yuuri said, holding up his hands. 

“But at least you know it! I came with my friends, but they’re all useless at anything not the merengue, I swear,” Alondra tossed an exasperated look over at a small group of girls and boys giggling and tripping over their feet. “They also had too _much_ of the bottomless margaritas,” she added in a faux-whisper. Yuuri snorted unattractively, but Alondra giggled. 

“So… if we both know what we’re doing…” Yuuri said with eyebrows rising. 

“Shall I lead?”

Yuuri bowed and held out his hands. “Yes, please.”

Alondra burst into laughter, tossing back her heavy bob of natural, thick curls and then held him with the easy confidence of someone who knew what she was doing. For a moment, Yuuri frowned, a weird creeping sensation running down his skin. But then the music started, and he grinned as Alondra easily led him into the dance. It was probably some of the most fun he had since he and Phichit were separated. Alondra wasn’t too handsy, she never stepped on his toes, and they both managed to make it interesting and fun, adding flourishes and hip-sways and extra foot movements as the songs went on. They were all but panting, faces shiny, when they finally called it quits and stumbled towards Yuuri’s table. 

“I knew you could dance! In aerobics it looked like you were constantly holding yourself back from leaping across the room!” Alondra said with a laugh, throwing herself in a chair and fanning herself. 

“I only needed it for the credit, I have a pretty specific scholarship,” Yuuri said with a shrug. “I’ve been doing a classical ballroom class instead.”

“Is that where you learned the rumba and salsa and everything else?”

Yuuri smiled. “More like reviewed. I learned this all as a kid in Japan.”

“What?! How!” Alondra asked, leaning forward. 

That creeping sensation came back and Yuuri shook his head and hands to get rid of it. He briefly explained Minako and ice skating, though he refused to let Alondra google him when she’d forced it out of him that his scholarship revolved around that. Alondra was a music major— _Musical Composition, actually! My dad’s always been into making music, I swear he can play any instrument! He met my mom playing music where she taught dance. I really wanted to get into creating music like he did_ — and they got into the different software she used and how he’d tried to make a very simple version of Sibelius for his last coding project.

“It was an absolute disaster!” Yuuri said, laughing and rubbing the back of his head. 

“You’d have to know a lot about music to do that, though,” Alondra pointed out. 

“I played piano for a while. I thought about… I thought about doing music composition, actually. I wanted to create music, for my skate programs, like Viktor does, but—”

“Wait. Viktor? Who’s that?” Alondra asked in confusion. Blood rushed to Yuuri’s face and Alondra blinked in surprise. “Oh,” she whispered wide-eyed.

“No! No, nothing like— he’s a skater, too! He’s famous. You should google him, don’t waste your time looking for my stuff. He’s twenty-four and he’s been winning golds and silvers since he was sixteen. He’s a real athlete _and_ artist,” Yuuri explained quickly, not realizing how his eyes lit up. Alondra was smiling as she blushed. 

“He’s also got a great fan.”

“He has millions of fans, I’m just one,” Yuuri said dismissively, already pulling out his phone. He smiled, not realizing how soft and smitten he looked as he pulled up his own private account and playlist on youtube. “Just listen to the music he had made for his latest short program. It’s almost as breathtaking as the performance. I can't wait to see it in person next week.”

Alondra scooted closer and bent over his phone, an indulgent smile on her face. She gasped in awe within moments of the video playing. Yuuri couldn’t help the proud grin. It wasn’t his favorite performance, but it was definitely one of Viktor’s strongest. 

“Wait, wait, here, see that? That’s a quadruple flip, it’s one of the most difficult jumps and he actually landed it competition when he was my age, _four years ago_! They’re already calling him a living legend, and his twitter and instagram followers are well into the millions.”

“He’s like… a real _celebrity_.”

“You should see the commercials he’s been in,” Yuuri said, laughing. “If he were in an Asian country, he’d have an auto-tuned record and several movies already.”

“Hey, the West has been doing that, too. You never know,” Alondra teased. Yuuri nodded his head as if to cede a point, and let Alondra replay the video. “The music is beautiful. Oh. French. Hmm, I took a few courses in high school, I thought it’d be close enough to Spanish I’d get an easy A,” she said slyly. Yuuri chuckled. “I think it’s something to do with reaching? Reaching out for more?”

“Yeah, that’s it. _Reach Out Further_ is the official title. Someone wrote the translated title in the comments, but this is a Japanese video.”

“So, that’s what you want to do? Create music for your own programs? I could… I could compose a song like that…” Alondra said, frowning in concentration. She pulled back her hair and tied it in a messy bun. “It would take some time—”

Any excitement he felt was immediately swamped by the creeping sensation returning. Was it even a mere sensation when it covered him from head to foot, like an oil vat had been dumped over his head? The blood drained from his face, from his body, leaving him leaving clammy and damp with cold and warm sweat. The taste of fish and bile coated the back of his throat, and all he could smell was _Omega_. He had registered, vaguely, that Alondra was an Omega, but she hadn’t pulled herself close or leaned on him, or been in anyway inappropriate, so he hadn’t quite taken in her scent. Except for those few times he had felt… off. Now, with her so close, and her neck bared just inches from him, there wasn’t anything covering it up. 

“Yuuri? Are you okay?”

“I ha-have to—” Yuuri rushed out of the booth and flung himself towards the restrooms. The Alpha and Beta-male bathrooms were mercifully empty and he fell into a stall and used the walls to hold himself up. Several minutes of dry-heaving and gagging later, Yuuri managed to swallow down the urge and fall into hard, raspy panting. He cringed when the main door opened.

“Yuuri?”

“Phichito-kun?” 

The stall door, which he hadn’t gotten around to locking, opened slowly to reveal a concerned Phichit. He disappeared and Yuuri sighed, eyes closing against the harsh bathroom lights, when he heard the water run. He pushed himself out of the stall to the counter, leaning all his weight against it. Blessedly cool water covered his forehead and dripped down to his throat, the gentle pressure of Phichit’s hand dabbing at his still too clammy skin. 

“What happened? You looked like you were having a fun time?”

“I was. I’m glad we came,” Yuuri said, giving Phichit a shaky, squinty-eyed smile. Silence fell, and Yuuri knew this one was of those too understanding moments. It made the words clog up his throat, desperate to get out, equally desperate to stay buried. 

“I think we’ve been here long enough. Let’s go home,” Phichit said when the silence drew out too long and he realized no more answers or explanations were coming. Yuuri’s shoulders curled inward, the guilt and relief squeezing at his too-fast-beating heart. 

“You don’t have to. I can get back on my own,” he said quietly. 

“Yuuri, half the fun is gone if you go,” Phichit replied. Yuuri tossed him a sardonic look.

“We weren’t even dancing together most the night.”

“So? I knew you were here, having fun, _and_ I was totally about to come steal you away so you could dance with me again. You’re definitely the best one here.”

“I’m pretty sure the instructor is.”

“Lies! Slander!”

“About myself?”

Phichit laughed and knocking their shoulders together. Whatever was left of that creeping sensation all but disappeared, and Yuuri looked at Phichit’s neck. Where two adhesives almost the exact shade of his skin rested. 

“Yeah, my family sent me some when I asked," Phichit explained when he caught Yuuri's look. "The US just doesn’t have the right color in its usual pharmacies. There are some awesome small companies online, though! I ordered a batch, but I’m glad I didn’t have to order too many. My VISA doesn’t allow a part-time job.” Phichit rolled his eyes and touched a patch. 

“Do you mind… um…” Yuuri stared hard at his feet, cheeks and red flushing. “You can take them off. For a minute.”

“Yuuri! Do you wanna scent me?” Phichit exclaimed happily. Yuuri flinched and moved towards the door. “No, no! #defiinitivemoment is a go.”

“You are not putting this on instagram!” Yuuri protested as Phichit threw himself on Yuuri’s back and rubbed his cheek against his hair. 

“I totally am! Come here!” 

Phichit manhandled the groaning and eye-rolling Yuuri around. Patches thrown in the trash, Phichit yanked the slightly taller Alpha down and rubbed his cheek against Yuuri’s temple. There was a very pleased rumble deep in his chest and it made Yuuri hide a smile against Phichit’s shirt. He always forgot how deep his friend’s voice could be, or just how Alpha he could be. When Yuuri tentatively and awkwardly pressed his forehead to Phichit’s neck, the strings holding him up cut. Phichit laughed, rearranging his hold around Yuuri’s waist to hold him up. 

“I’m so glad we can finally do this! I miss all my siblings back home, and we puppy-piled all the time. I’m _starving_ , _touch starving_ , for affection, Yuuri.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. He made a small, inquiring noise. “Puppy pile?”

“Don’t even front, dog-lover.”

Yuuri chuckled softly. His hands were still hanging awkwardly at his side and he wasn’t really rubbing against Phichit. But they were close. And it smelled more like sunshine than like bathroom when he was huddled this close. 

“We don’t… at home… we don’t really do this. I… sometimes I need it or I’ll go crazy, but… I don’t like needing it,” Yuuri whispered softly. 

“Yuuri,” Phichit said with a quiet sigh. “One day you won’t hate yourself, and you’ll finally see the amazing person I see. I know your family feels the same. You’re not alone and it’s okay to need us.”

“I don’t… totally hate myself,” Yuuri said weakly. 

“Just your… your Alpha-ness!” Phichit waved a hand. “You’re not a bad person just because you were born an Alpha!”

Yuuri gritted his teeth and shook his head. Phichit sighed and patted Yuuri’s back. 

“You’re right. This shouldn’t be for instagram,” he finally said. Yuuri scoffed loudly. “But it should definitely not be in a bathroom. Ugh. Let’s go home and watch _The King and the Skater_.”

“Yeah. Sounds good. I have to say good-bye to Alondra.”

“And get her number, because she looks like a great new friend! And she can dance! I'm so _proud_ of you, Yuuri!”  
  
"Stop acting like my mother. Or _Minako-sensei_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is basically a 14k love letter to phichit and yuuri&phichit's friendship. Next chapter will be MORE PHICHIT and World's! Where we'll have a special guest POV scene (I'm sure you can guess: it'll be Chris! No, I lied, it'll be Viktor duh).
> 
> So, AP Club: AP are Advanced Placement classes (just in case you don't have them where you are). I have insider knowledge that almost all Asian kids are forced into as many AP classes as possible. So, the Asian-American kids called it "AP Club" as equal parts hilarity and homage to high school traumatic memories. The immigrant kids have no idea what's up with... all that.
> 
> As to Celestino: I do not think Celestino was a BAD PERSON. I hope I'm not making him... villainous or cruel? But a lot of his... reactions in the anime points to Celestino just not. fucking. getting. it. It's an assumption on my part, but there's a reason why Yuuri, after years of hard work, believed he was a shitty skater, despite his own accolades. Celestino not knowing how to handle Yuuri's anxiety, even in an ignorantly benevolent way, is my main assumption as to why. Plus... he was kinda a total fail as a coach in the show sometimes? Letting Yuuri get THAT drunk at a WORK EVENT? He had ONE SPONSOR? He pitted Phichit against Yuuri, made disparaging comments about Viktor's decision to coach (tho to be fair, there was a good reason why, but still, fuck off, celestino, you got fired for a reason), and actually smirked at the idea of Yuuri crumpling under the pressure between performances during Cup of China. ('Don't worry, he's not used to being first, he'll totes choke in the Free.' well fuck you too Celestino) He's not a bad person, but he can be kinda an insensitive dick. hot take??? (there's a tumblr meta writer who brought this up and i'm just like YOU RIGHT THO)
> 
> Alondra is a name I saw in another fic for the girl that composed YoI. I REALLY loved the name, and I loved how much the author(s?) loved their OC, even though the fic itself didn't show her much. I kept the name, but hopefully nothing else? I hope you all like her here!


End file.
